All the birds have flown up and gone;
A lonely cloud floats leisurely by.
We never tire of looking at each other -
Only the mountain and I.

Poem by Li Po (701-762)

The Famous Hiran Minar is located in Shekhupura, near Lahore Pakistan. Its geographic position is at 31.45 degree Latitude North and 73.57 degree Longitude East and is one of the master pieces of Mughal Architecture. It is believed that this monument was built by Emperor Jahangir in the memory of his Pet deer Mansraj.

Description

The information on the website of UNESCO describes the architecture as follows:

Constructed in brick, the minar (tower) is circular and tapers towards the top, which is flat, with a parapet wall. There are 210 square holes on the outer surface of the minar, arranged at regular intervals i~ 14 rows. A spiral straircase consisting of 108 steps has been provided ins-.de the minar. Along6ide the staircase, there are 11 ascending rectangular arched openings provided for air and light The minar is divided into six tiers of different height. The base of each tier has projected moulding and the lowest tier has an arched opening for an entrance. The entire exterior as well as interior of the minar has lime plaster, apparently with some floral or lineal fresco paintings. The thick lime plaster applied over the surface of the lowest tier has been divided into decorative panels or arched niches and horizontal bands in high relief. Facing the grand minar on the east side is a big tank with a causeway leading to the octagonal baradari (pavilion) built in the middle There is a square pavilion at each corner with a gateway to the baradari. The tank is rectangular in shape, each side has a ramp and a parapet wall and is flanked by four staircases of 8 6teps. During Mughal days, a channel was cut from the Aik rivulet and connected with the tank at its north-west corner ; in addition, an elaborate system for filling up the tank with rain water from the catchment area was devised. The main gateway to the baradari is a rectangular vestibule with a pointed arch flanked by four other similar but smaller openings, built one upon the other. Inside the vestibule are two platforms. The inner walls have been decorated with recessed niches, while the soffit of the domeshaped ceilings has honeycomb decoration. The two flights of 13 stops cons-tructed at both the corners lead to the roof. The outer and inner sur-face has been plastered in the usual way and decorated with fresco paintings. A causeway, standing on 21 pointed arched pillars, connects the main baradari with the gateway. A square-shaped projected platform has been provided in the middle of thc causeway. In the centre of the tank has been erected an octagonal platform with a low parapet wall on all sides. Over the platform stands the beautiful baradari in the same plan, The baradari was constructed under the orders of the Emperor Jahangir in 1620 A.D. for use as a royal residence.

At the moment, it is a very fine tourist spot who want a place to sit and relax away from Urban Centers like Lahore.

From my wings are shaken the dews that waken
The sweet buds every one,
When rocked to rest on their mother’s breast,
As she dances about the sun.
I wield the flail of the lashing hail,
And whiten the green plains under,
And then again I dissolve it in rain,
And laugh as I pass in thunder.

I sift the snow on the mountains below,
And their great pines groan aghast;
And all the night ’tis my pillow white,
While I sleep in the arms of the blast.
Sublime on the towers of my skiey bowers,
Lightning, my pilot, sits;
In a cavern under is fettered the thunder,
It struggles and howls at fits;

Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion,
This pilot is guiding me,
Lured by the love of the genii that move
In the depths of the purple sea;
Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills,
Over the lakes and the plains,
Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream,
The Spirit he loves remains;
And I all the while bask in Heaven’s blue smile,
Whilst he is dissolving in rains.

The sanguine Sunrise, with his meteor eyes,
And his burning plumes outspread,
Leaps on the back of my sailing rack,
When the morning star shines dead;
As on the jag of a mountain crag,
Which an earthquake rocks and swings,
An eagle alit one moment may sit
In the light of its golden wings.
And when Sunset may breathe, from the lit sea beneath,
Its ardors of rest and of love,

And the crimson pall of eve may fall
From the depth of Heaven above,
With wings folded I rest, on mine aery nest,
As still as a brooding dove.
That orbed maiden with white fire laden,
Whom mortals call the Moon,
Glides glimmering o’er my fleece-like floor,
By the midnight breezes strewn;
And wherever the beat of her unseen feet,
Which only the angels hear,
May have broken the woof of my tent’s thin roof,
The stars peep behind her and peer;
And I laugh to see them whirl and flee,
Like a swarm of golden bees,
When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent,
Till the calm rivers, lakes, and seas,
Like strips of the sky fallen through me on high,
Are each paved with the moon and these.

I bind the Sun’s throne with a burning zone,
And the Moon’s with a girdle of pearl;
The volcanoes are dim, and the stars reel and swim
When the whirlwinds my banner unfurl.
From cape to cape, with a bridge-like shape,
Over a torrent sea,
Sunbeam-proof, I hang like a roof,–
The mountains its columns be.
The triumphal arch through which I march
With hurricane, fire, and snow,
When the Powers of the air are chained to my chair,
Is the million-colored bow;
The sphere-fire above its soft colors wove,
While the moist Earth was laughing below.

I am the daughter of Earth and Water,
And the nursling of the Sky;
I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores;
I change, but I cannot die.
For after the rain when with never a stain
The pavilion of Heaven is bare,
And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams
Build up the blue dome of air,
I silently laugh at my own cenotaph,
And out of the caverns of rain,
Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb,
I arise and unbuild it again.

Today, I happened to capture few snaps telling a tale that is self evident so I would like to post those snaps and leave it up to you to draw conclusion. I hope you will not mind if I post a little description of the photos, rest you are masters:

In this photograph, I want to draw your attention to encroachment mafia and state of city planning in our country. Good work!

This is a photo of graveyard in my neighborhood. The encroachment mafia can be seen active here too. Apart from this, I don’t know to who is responsible for looking after this place, dead are helpless buddy!

We do have a very efficient waste disposal system. Hats off!

Have you heard of drainage system in Mohen Jo Daro some 5000 years ago? We have advanced quite well.

Last but not least, Hyderabad Electric Supply Corporation has left no stone unturned to built no less than a spider web of electric supply lines. I salute them.

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